


d stands for deanna

by frogstatuette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Genderswap, Pre-Canon, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Vignette, vignettes actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogstatuette/pseuds/frogstatuette
Summary: At age two, Sammy knows that the smaller figure, the one who holds her softer and who tells her to do things, and who has sandy blonde hair and green eyes, is her sister. She protects Sammy- she’s not sure what from, but Sammy is sure that she trusts her.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 16





	d stands for deanna

**Author's Note:**

> *boogies in accidentally joined the Supernatural fandom*
> 
> Anyways, have some sisters! I'm planning to write more in this universe soon, probably branching directly off from this fic.

At age two, Sammy knows that the smaller figure, the one who holds her softer and who tells her to do things, and who has sandy blonde hair and green eyes, is her sister. She protects Sammy- she’s not sure what from, but Sammy is sure that she trusts her.

“She” is called Deanna: Dee-ann-ah, with three nice parts. Sammy likes her name, likes the crisp lines, but it comes out clumsy in her young mouth.

“Dee-a,” she tries again, and her sister smiles. “Dee-a!”

“Yeah, Sammy, there you go!” she says, and hands Sammy a toy. She drops it; Deanna is much more interesting right now. “That’s me. Deanna.”

“Dee-a,” Sammy repeats, then shakes her fist, frustrated. She’s close, but not a match.

But despite that, Deanna scoops her up gently and bounces her once, making Sammy giggle. “You got it. Dee-a, that’s me now.”

That much, Sammy can say.

-

At age seven, Sammy knows that her older sister is named Deanna, and that they’re both getting too old for silly nicknames. Dad tells her as much, and Dad is usually (but not always) right.

But at age seven, she also knows that Dee-a gets all happy, like Sam’s just told a good joke, whenever she uses the nickname.

“Dee-a, could you pass me the cereal?” she says on mornings when Dad’s out hunting. And Deanna smiles big, even as she grumbles about Sam being lazy.

“Come on, Dee-a, pass me the remote! We’re not watching this shit,” she demands, hand outstretched and grabbing. And Deanna gives it to her, however reluctantly.

“If we don’t do something soon, I’m going to go crazy, Dee-a,” she tells her, half sprawled out on the hotel bed, half sprawled on the floor. And Deanna picks her up by the feet and swings Sammy over her shoulders, laughing like a maniac, and drags them both down to the nearby lake. When she comes up for air, Sammy can see her older sister grinning victoriously from the shallows, and instead of getting mad like she should, she gets even.

So yeah. Maybe seven is getting a little old for calling her sister “Dee-a”, but Sammy doesn’t see the harm in using it when it’s just the two of them.

-

At age twelve, Sam knows that her older sister’s name comes from the name Diana, and that Diana was the name Romans used for Artemis, and that Artemis was the goddess of the moon and the hunt.

She doesn’t tell Dee-a (her sister’s ego is big enough as it is), but she thinks that it’s appropriate. Deanna, at age sixteen, wields her shotgun like an extension of her arm, stalks her prey like she’s the Lord almighty, come down to exact her will. She’s tall, strong Deanna, who shoots to kill and always hits between the eyes. That’s exactly the kind of person that should be named after the goddess of the hunt.

Samantha didn’t mean anything as interesting or accurate; just some boring old biblical stuff. That’s okay though- she’s always been the type to make a name for herself, and everybody knows it. Dee-a knows it, for sure; she’s the one, who, when Sam came home a week ago with her ears pierced, told her that she’s got “fucking character” and “a mind of your goddamn own, that’s for sure”. If it had been anyone else, Sam probably would have punched them, but this is Deanna, and she’d been smiling at the time.

(It had totally been worth Dad’s disapproval, for the record. Plus, Dee-a had shoplifted her of of those multipacks of cute little earrings yesterday, and if anything in this world is worth anything, it’s getting her older sister to go against Dad’s rules.)

-

At age sixteen, Sam hopes that if she stops calling her sister “Dee-a”, she’ll stop treating her like a little kid and calling her “Sammy”.

Look, the whole thing was cute when she was, like, twelve and too much of a baby to know any better, but now it’s just grating. No one wants to be the junior still getting called Sammy and having her hair put into braids by her older sister, but especially not an AP student trying (in secret, to be fair) to get into Stanford.

Yeah, she knows that Deanna has some sort of weird mom complex thing going on- Sam’s always going to be her little baby Sammy, who still needs someone to hold her hand and read her books stolen from a library two states ago. It’s understandable, really. Deanna’s more of a parent than their fucking dad’s ever been, and she’s had it drilled into her since their mom died that she needs to take care of Sam. Still doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be able to recognize when Sam’s grown and matured and changed.

So now she’s hoping the “eye for an eye” strategy will work out for her. And besides- she can say Deanna properly now. Why shouldn’t she?

-

Sam is twenty-one and every time she hears the name “Deanna”, her whole body hurts for a moment.

Her latest Psych teacher is named that- Deanna Marrien White. One initial off from her Deanna. Her Dee-a. One of Jessica’s friends, too: she comes from the southern Bible belt and she looks nothing like the real Deanna, but sometimes the eyes are just close enough that she winces.

It makes her think of how she hadn’t even had the courage to say Deanna’s name before she got out of the Impala and onto the Stanford campus, couldn’t say good bye after hours of driving of silence. She feels guilty about it, just a little. Dee-a’s always been good to her, even at the cost of herself, and she didn’t even have the guts to say “I love you” or “I’ll miss you” or “good luck, Dee-a”.

She feels the same kind of way about “Sammy”- it’s not just embarrassing anymore, it’s got baggage. It’s got history and a certain cadence and a tone and annoyance and the edge of a whine and breathless joy and love, love, love, from a big sister to her little Sammy, and hearing it come out of anyone else’s mouth makes her want to puke. Whether it’s from the fact she’s still clinging to Deanna and that past she swore to leave behind or the things she’s not hearing behind it, she doesn’t know.

All her new friends know better than to call her Sammy. Some of them joke about her aversion- “Sam’ll crucify you on the spot if you call her that”, that kind of thing- but none of them use it, not even to be joking. It’s good. She likes it like that.

(Well, she kind of likes it like that. Sammy will shoot herself before admitting it, but sometimes-just _sometimes_ , mind you- she wants to hear it again, in her weaker moments. When she’s sick with the flu. When she’s drunk and miserable at some shitty party. When Halloween comes around and all the bad horror movies drop.)

(Sometimes, she almost swears she can hear it on the wind. Most of the time, she thinks she should be admitted to a psychiatric institution.)

( _Sammy. Hey, Sammy! Ugh, doesn’t that look stupid, Sammy? Hey, hey, Sammy, it’s okay. It’s okay, Sammy, you’re gonna be okay. Sammy, baby, you’re breaking my heart! Sammy, the fuck do you think you’re doing? Ew, Sammy, no! C’mon, Sammy, it’s not that bad!_ )

( _Sammy, when are you coming home?_ )

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! Kudos, comment, subscribe to the series, all that good stuff! (if you're in the mood, of course!)


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